City of Memories: A Mortal Instruments Fanfic
(Sorry this chapter ran so far past its deadline. I forgot last weekend was a holiday, and weekends are usually when I get most of my writting done :P. Hope you enjoy this next chapter though. Please comment if you likey! P.s. Because of how late this chapter ran, I will be changing my deadlines for the next chapters.)
Little Blue Book
The streets were alive with a constant honking, and the shuffling of feet. Women walked side by side, busy chatting, swinging their large shopping bags as they strolled down the sidewalk. Some children ran between them, their mom was yelling at them not to get too far ahead. To their eyes, everything was normal and mundane. They could not see the group of teenagers, surrounding something that writhed and squirmed in the alleyway.
Clary looked down at it. It was a slug like demon, that smelled like rotten eggs and old garbage. It had one of Jace's seraph blades protruding out of its torso. At least, she would have guessed it was the creature's torso.
Isabelle stomped on it, stabbing her pointed heal into its flesh, and it seemed to melt into a pile of black blood, which covered Isabelle's sole, then faded away into dust.
Simon shook his head. "Please don't tell me this is what Shadowhunters do on all their dates."
"It's not like we planned to find this thing sliming up and down the avenue," Clary said with a roll of her eyes.
Jace bent forward and scooped up his blade, brushed it off, and stuck it into his back pocket. Clary felt a little betrayed. She imagined a woman sitting in a restaurant, trying to carry on a conversation with her date. Her date has a cell phone up to his ear, talking to employees and coworkers about an upcoming project. But of course Jace would still be "working," even though Clary felt he enjoyed it too much sometimes. A Shadowhunter's job was never done. Not unless hell froze over. Suddenly, she felt very stupid for leaving the house without her blade as well.
"Well," Isabelle reached down and swiped her boot, as if she was making sure there was no dirt on it, "lets get going. I would like to eat before 8:00."
The boys had planned dinner at a small corner restaurant. Clary remembered eating there a few times. It was right down the block from her and her mother's old apartment building. On the outside of the glass windows it advertised a number of plates. Its specialties were all of the Italian variety, and Clary happened to love Italian food. She could feel Jace looking at her as she stared up at the storefront. Did he choose her favorite on purpose?
"Aw, I ate spaghetti yesterday," she could hear Isabelle whine.
"Well don't eat spaghetti," Jace said, slightly peeved. He reached down and took Clary's hand, to her surprise, and led her into the building.
Maia dusted off another book and placed it carefully on the shelf. She had already sorted through one box, and was about to fall asleep from boredom. She guessed the work was worth it since Luke paid her, and she pretty much had to support herself.
Having something to do also helped her take her mind off of, other things. Which had been on her mind a lot recently. First she arranged the books alphabetically, then by size, and then by color. But through time she ran out of ways to organized the books, and Simon entered her mind yet again.
She sat down in a big worn chair, in the corner of the bookstore, for a break. It felt so dark and dreary, with no life in it. It was quiet, so how could she stop herself from thinking?
Simon was on a date with Isabelle. It shouldn't have been such a shock to her. Isabelle was beautiful, strong, and nice for the most part. Maybe her theory that brain would win over beauty was wrong.
Maybe it was even worse than that, and Simon did not like her for something so easily changed, but something she was; something she couldn't change no matter how hard she willed it away, but it always appeared again on a full moon.
The Children of the Moon and the Night Children were enemies. Maia would have never pegged him one to follow vampire ways but…
One of the books collapsed to the floor, and she sighed and lifted herself out of the chair. She quirked her mouth when she saw the spot on the shelf she had placed it before. No books were tilted, there was just a rectangular void where the book had once been. She bent down to pick it up.
It was just a plain, light blue book. It fell on its binding, and was opened to the front page. There, under the name "Christopher Giles," was a red seal, a star with flames encircling it. The seal of the Lilith Children. The book had once belonged to a warlock.
Instinctively she jerked her hand back, afraid of what the book might possess, but she had already touched it once before, and shook it off as harmless. It must have been harmless, if it was going to be sold in a bookstore.
She was curious about what the book might contain, and sat back down in the chair with it in her hands. She scanned through the pages, all containing what looked like a number of journal entries from the years 1912 to 1964.
"Entry number twenty-six," Maia read aloud, "June 03, 1914. The color red, screaming my name, twisted metal, breathing slowing, cradled in lap, tears, sobbing, the end, I want it to end, why won't it come, please, let her die… two years ago…" The words were choppy, a series of thoughts, that one had to put together like a puzzle.
She kept on reading. "Entry number fifty-three, October 17, 1935. Friends visited, asked about her, couldn't speak, they hadn't known, spoke in a choke, they cried, they left, sat down in dark, cradled head in hands, hated the memories, wish I could forget."
"Entry number one hundred-twenty, March 21, 1960. Been years, still haunts me, going to see that man again, he will make it all better, for a moment, a moment is all I need, it won't be much longer, till we meet yet again."
She didn't read them all; only the ones which contained words that jumped out at her. It didn't take much to piece together the scattered thoughts. Someone he loved died in some crash. Her memory lives on inside his heart. And it pains him…
What would it be like? Being afraid to remember those you loved…
She already knew. She had loved, and been hurt, by one angelic, little boy. She had been betrayed, and tossed out for the dogs, so to speak, by another boy, whom she loved with all her heart. And the memories of those two, the one who made Maia afraid, and the one who made her inhuman, were things she never wanted to remember.
"The food?" Jace asked her, as they sat on the front porch step, hand in hand.
"Great," Clary enthused.
"The walk through the park?"
"Beautiful," she sighed.
"…Me?" He questioned.
She leaned in and gave him a peck. "Wonderful. The date was all wonderful Jace."
He slowly lifted her face, to plant a longer, and more intense kiss on her lips. He broke it with a smile, and she laughed, too excited to contain it.
"Alright love birds," Isabelle called. She had her purse swung over her shoulder and was standing impatiently. She yawned. "Jace, we should leave now. It's late."
He sighed in annoyance, but finally unlaced his hand with hers. "Goodnight," he said as he reluctantly stood up, and began to walk towards the street, where Isabelle was already hailing a cab.
Clary stared after him, until his head disappeared into the interior of the car, and it drove out of view.
The inside of the house was dark, but she could see a faint light glowing in the hallway. It was coming from the living room, where the TV was still left on, some old movie filled its tiny screen. She peeked in. Her mother and Luke were both on the couch. Jocelyn was leaning on him, and her head was rested on his shoulder. She could hear their deep breathing as they slept. It made her feel an overwhelming sense of happiness. This was her family, her wonderful, unnatural, family.
She yawned. She hadn't noticed how tired she had been. How could she have been sleepy while she was out on a date with Jace? She went up stairs, washed her face, and pulled on an old t-shirt and some comfy shorts.
When she turned off her lamp, the lights from the city, over the river, were barely visible. But it was just enough to give her room a serene glow. It kind of looked like the moonlight; if the moon had been out. Clary turned back her covers, and went to sleep.
What is this?
Where am I?
A desert, barren, with red dust everywhere. She stood on the water's edge of a lake. It was bright, and Clary felt the need to squint. When her eyes focused, some familiarity of the land sunk in.
"Clary?" She heard a voice behind her, and spun around on her toes.
The wind blew Jace's golden hair back from his face.
"What are you doing here?" She asked. "What am… what am I doing here?"
His eyes rose to look above her head, and Clary followed them. A gasping, almost screaming, noise emitted from her, as she stared up at the floating figure.
Ithuriel. Poor Ithuriel…
Jace walked to stand beside her, and put his arms around her to comfort.
The angel hovered in the sky, above the lake. The angel Clary and Jace had found in the basement of the Wayland Manor. Some of the same blood that ran through his veins, ran through theirs. He had died the night they had found him, and along with him, all of Clary's cryptic nightmares and visions died as well.
But then what was this?
"It is the same thing," someone spoke in the silence. A black cloud materialized before them, and through it stepped Sebastian. Clary could feel Jace trying to lunge towards him, but for some reason she held him back. Sebastian snapped his fingers, and at that Ithuriel vanished, his ashes fell to the ground. "Pesky little things, angels and the like." He smiled at them, and Clary also felt the urge to lunge forward and strangle him. But she couldn't, she just stared at him in shock. She knew she was dreaming. How could he be alive otherwise…?
"Ah," he reached down and lifted two shining objects.
"Put them down!" Jace shouted.
Sebastian only smiled and slung Maellartach over his shoulder. "Not again Shadowhunter," he said with a crooked grin. "You'd have to kill me first. And how can you kill a dead man?" The black haze had reappeared, and he stepped through it. Instead of vanishing, the giant mass shrunk, then swelled into a massive ball of light. It suddenly exploded into millions of glittering crystals, and as the light rained down it cast an illusion over the land, or broke it…
"Alicante," Clary whispered in shock, and sprung awake in bed.
She fled down to the kitchen, and fumbled with the buttons on the phone. They had programmed the Institute into speed dial.
"Someone answer," she willed as it rang on the other end.
"Hello?" Jace said, with a sleepy yawn.
"The dream!" Clary yelled, before she had found the right words.
There was a pause. "Clary… what dream?" He asked.
She felt floored. "You… you didn't have the same dream?"
"I haven't even fallen asleep yet Clary. I've been busy. Maryse had given us homework…"
"Jace!" Clary shouted, cutting him off. "This is important! I'm coming over, now!"
Before he had a chance to say anything she hung up, and ran to grab her coat off of the coat rack.
If this dream was anything like the others, it meant something was going to happen, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what that something was. She could have told Luke, but she didn't know what to say, how to make him believe her. If Ithuriel wasn't alive, then how did she know this wasn't just some nightmare? She needed help. Magnus, maybe? Maryse or Robert? Jace, Isabelle, and Alec, her Shadowhunter trio? She felt like she just needed someone to show her Alicante. She needed to be sure it was still standing and not in flames, burning to the ground.
There was only one light pole outside of Luke's house, and she stood beside it, waiting for a cab to pass. She bounced on her heals impatiently. Then stopped. She felt the hair rise on the back of her neck. Someone was watching her from the shadows.
She looked frantically over the darkness. Black clouds hung low in the sky, and covered all the starlight. She couldn't see anything beyond her side of the curb. She closed her eyes and inhaled. Nothing was there. She must have been scared of the dark.
"Clary…" she heard someone whisper over her shoulder. She could feel their breath on her cheek.
Her eyes snapped open, just as something large and wooden struck her across the forehead, and she fell to the pavement. The darkness overtook her, she was floating in a sea of nothingness. The painless bliss of unconsciousness…
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